


Charcoal and Snow

by Rictus



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Choking, Dirty Talk, Exposition, I'm Not Ashamed, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, PWP, Power Play, Rough Sex, Some BDSM, Suit Porn, compensation fic, it's compensation for CHO9 not being out yet, short fic, tofficore- relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 14:59:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rictus/pseuds/Rictus
Summary: Toffee loves power play and Rast is just doing his damn best.





	Charcoal and Snow

The whole place stank of sophistication, sleek and pristine— any hairs out of place had been cut to the root. The intern looked around the room, from the skyline windows to the glossed cherry desk, to each ellipse of light on his superior’s teeth. He suppressed a gulp, fingering the papers in his hand. One gunmetal hand traced absent patterns in the wood of the desk with a delicate, razor line claw, the other hidden beneath the wood; his face was smooth and angular, hair pushed back and falling softly around his shoulders. There was no denying that harmonic cruelty, the faintly perceptible musculature beneath the ironed suit, the smile of a shark glutted on blood. Where was the other one?

“I don’t see your guard,” the intern started, nervous, unprofessional. He hadn’t meant it as a challenge.

“That’s rather the idea, isn’t it?” the creature behind the desk replied, nails dragging two pale lines into the wood as he leaned forward, a graceful roll of his hips pushing his chair in closer. “Don’t you worry, his talents are being put to full service.” 

The kid glanced nervously at the shadows and corners of the room, trying to ignore the yellow eyes watching him in some queasy mixture of pity and hunger. He stepped forward, papers in an outstretched hand, trying not to let his skin come into contact with the other’s— its touch frightened him, never mind he barely possessed the worth to so much as look at the man. His own skin was beginning to run white as a fish’s stomach, patches of sweat forming on his shoulder blades and back; despite the routine of the operation, the standard mundanity of it, not being able to see the bodyguard set his teeth on edge. That, and something about his superior made him feel like a caged rabbit. 

The other man rocked his hips forward again in a movement the intern knew he wasn’t supposed to have noticed, and he cursed every god the earth had ever known as he felt himself twitch behind his slacks. Goddamn him, monster or not, he was divine. The supine curve of his neck feeding into the starched white collar hinted at the perfectly tuned body beneath, he moved with a timeless fluidity and carried an almost imperial figure. Though their company was legitimate, he reminded the boy of someone who, with clean hands, had baptized the carpeting beneath heir feet in daily blood. 

He flicked through the papers slowly, taking mild care and less displayed interest in each one before setting them to one side in a crisp stack, the precision of each movement and placement almost unnerving. He folded forward, one hand crooking a pianist’s finger and its deadly end beneath his chin. At the opposite side, his shoulder twitched, indicating the other arm was moving somewhere. 

“You—You’re welcome—”

“Out,” he replied, his smile quirking, and goddamn everything if that expression didn’t make the younger man’s trousers shrink. 

For one second of pure panic, he could have sworn his superior’s eyes flickered to the imperceptible bulge. Swallowing hard, he all but fled from the office, praying for the third time he’d imagined the chuckling licking at his heels. 

Once the door had been shut and locked, the little click at the far end of the room indicative of isolation, Toffee sighed and slid backwards in his chair just enough to peer beneath his desk, and the lovely sight that slid into view. Of his poor guard filling the cramped space, shoulder spines digging into the wood above him and tail coiled up around his legs, hands bound behind his back, his eyes furious as he was dragged out into the open; his mouth and working tongue wrapped around his employer’s cock. Grinning, Toffee slid his hand from the back of Rasticore’s head to run his nails along one frill, the sudden rush of endorphins causing the other to dig his teeth in, pulling a sharp breath of pleasure from the man. Still toying with the frill, he pushed the guard’s head forward, burying himself in Rasticore’s mouth to the very base, rocking his hips forward in short bursts. 

“Did you like that, you cheap slut?” he purred, listening to Rasticore’s swallows of adjustment and rolling his hips more harshly as the other began to ease into a bite at the remark, shoulders shifting and his tail trying to loop around to slip between his own legs. 

Toffee kicked it away with a bark of laughter, snapping his hips forward again and suppressing a moan as Rasticore’s eyes rolled up, then squeezed shut. 

Beneath the closed lids, he imagined working his hands free just enough to take the other by surprise, grabbing him and throwing him against his desk, the window, the floor, anything, getting one hand around his throat and tying him up instead, hands bound to his tail with that crimson tie, ripping his clothes off and sinking his teeth into that smooth grey flesh as he all but forced himself inside of Toffee; the way he would begin to pant and scream, begging like a whore, his whole body arching and twitching as Rasticore stirred his guts, fucking him good and proper like he deserved, well past the brink of his sanity. 

Gods, the way he curled around the guard as he was fucked, the way his moans began to flutter a staccato before dissolving into gasps and desperate, needy cries, his aching cock bobbing with the movement of the other man’s thrusts— and damn him, it wouldn’t even be a proper revenge, he knew damn well Toffee was goading him into breaking his bonds and fucking his superior like a doll. At the end of the day, a cock whore with a sadistic streak was still a cock whore. 

“—Liked it, didn’t you?”

He pulled himself out of his own thoughts of ravaging the other and tried to pay attention to what he was saying, knowing it would fuel him later. Toffee loved having his jabs thrown back in his face.

“Nearly made that dispensable little fuck come just looking at me,” he said, barely hiding the break in his voice as he moaned. “You should feel blessed I even want a disgusting slut like you.” 

Now that one would be good to repeat back. It’d probably be enough to drive Toffee over the edge of orgasm. He was under no illusions— Toffee knew exactly what he was doing. He knew every word was fuel to be used to punish his willing body later, it was only a matter of time. 

“Mmh, oh, work me, fuck, work me harder you filthy little bitch— Ohh…” 

Just as Rasticore worked one hand free of its bindings, Toffee gripped the back of his head hard, his other hand running through his hair as he snapped his hips forward, sending a wash of come down the guard’s throat, forcing him to swallow and choke. He pumped himself into Rasticore’s mouth as he coughed, moaning softly with each vibration. 

“Mm, fuck, Rast, so good—” he bit off with a gasp and a cry of surprised delight as Rasticore slid off, using his free hand to wrap around Toffee’s throat, cutting off his airways and all but throwing him to the floor. 

Holding him by the neck, he picked him up and slammed him chin down against his desk, bending him over and rubbing his caged member against the other’s ass, listening to him gasp and feeling him twitch with need. Goddamn tease. 

Grabbing Toffee’s trembling hips, he thrust against him roughly, smirking as he felt the other’s body all but open for him through his clothes. Toffee’s hands were dragging deep gouges into the desk, papers lay like fallen doves across the carpet and his head snapped from side to side, teeth bared and eyes slitted, desperate moans sliding through his clenched jaw. 

“Like that, do you, whore? Just the idea of my cock is enough to make you weak.” 

“Ahhh, Rast, p-please, I-I need…Mhh…!”

“Say it, then we’ll talk.” 

“No,” Toffee panted, though the way he was rocking his hips begged yes.

“Say it.”

“No!”

Rasticore leaned back, grabbed the base of Toffee’s tail, and squeezed hard. 

“AHH! RAST, F-FUCK, I—God, ohhh, god, fuck me…”

“Say it.” 

One hand had worked itself under his chest, and Rasticore chuckled as he watched it work one nipple, stroking and twisting, Toffee rubbing himself against the wood like a dog in heat, the muscles of that tail in Rasticore’s hand twitching in earnest, while the rest of the tail had curled around his waist. Oh, he had it bad. 

“Ahh… God… Fuck me, Master,” Toffee finally spat out, pushing his hips back against the guard’s cock. 

“Mm, that wasn’t so hard, was it, slut?” 

“Fuck you,” Toffee hissed. 

Oh, he was in for it now. The tail around his waist tightened as Rasticore ripped his trousers down, revealing smooth, shaking grey flesh, delicately wrought with curves of muscle. Toffee had begun to moan in frenzied anticipation, rubbing himself against Rasticore desperately as his hand moved to unzip his jeans. God, he could feel him tightening, feel the heat coming off of him. Wrapping a hand around his cock, he lined himself up with Toffee’s entrance, grinning as the other man all but spasmed at the contact, gasping sharply, his tail winding tighter, pushing Rasticore closer.

“Master… Master… God, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” 

“Really, is that what you want?” He clapped his free hand against Toffee’s ass. “How do you want it done, slut?”

By that point, he could tell, Toffee was too far gone to worry much about his own pride.

“Fuck me, fuck me… Fuck my guts, punish me, ruin me, gods, I want to be fucking filled and unconscious and I want you to keep going…” Toffee’s eye rolled back to look at him, the pupil blown out completely. “Use me, fill me, fuck me harder, Master.” 

“So…Something like this?” Rasticore grinned, before thrusting himself fully inside of the other man with little warning, causing Toffee’s visible eye to roll all the way back as his moans pitched up into screams, ecstasy rocking through him. 

“MMH, FUCK, AHH, R-R, FUCKING— FUCK ME—!”

Rasticore took a handful of Toffee’s hair, yanking his head back as he slammed into him, the sounds Toffee was making driving him harder, further. 

“Lord, look at you. You should feel blessed I even want a disgusting slut like you,” he echoed, and sure enough, just as he’d predicted, it was enough to make his superior come, a white ribbon of semen spilling out across the desk.

Rasticore smiled, reaching around to pump Toffee’s cock to the rhythm of his thrusts, feeling the other man’s heartbeat in his hand, watching him arch up and begin to push his hips back to meet the other. Hardly one to break his word, Rasticore drove himself ever onward, fucking his superior into his desk until, hopefully before midnight rolled around, Toffee finally made good on his own promise and passed out in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> It is now six am and I started writing at four am. I should have done my fucking reading but I was up and at em and I also felt super bad about CHO9 so have some office smut to compensate you. Boom jams they fuckin.


End file.
